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Siggi

Letters from the front.

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3rd April 1917

Walmer

 

Dearest Papa;

 

Sammie was right, they snaffled me for the 56th. Been with these chaps for a few days now, still preparing the outfit for transfer back to the front. We're up two or three times a day, flying routine patrols and getting used to the standard of formation flying the CO expects of this unit. The CO, yes, it's Mr Albert Ball. And what a thoroughly nice chap he is too, made one feel right at home from the very first moment one met him.

 

We've had beastly weather every day I'm afraid, but we go up in it regardless. It's nothing compared to what the poor blighters in the trenches are having to put up with of course, one can at least here get straight into a nice hot bath at the end of the day.

 

Walmer is just down the slope at the end of the field, and us new chaps have been introduced to some jolly fine establishments, notabley a pie shop that acquires the most sublime meat (dead hun is the joke). We'll be spoiled for France I'm afraid.

 

We're flying Se5s, very fast and very strong. The field is quite well kitted out. Don't know what it'll be like in France of course, but one hears references to tents quite a lot. So we're making the most of the luxuries here.

 

Have you noticed how easy it is to read my writing yet? Tee hee! I wangled the type-writer from a source never to be disclosed. It's mine I tell you! I shan't be suprised if I haven't knocked out a novel by the time I get my first leave.

 

Well, me and the chaps have to get ready for another patrol (we grandly call them patrols). It's still early right now, not had lunch yet.

 

Please give my love to Mama, and tell her not to worry, I'm in very good hands here. I'll write again soon.

 

Your loving son.

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I just love these "letters" and "reports." The combination of amazingly immersive sim, historically informed flyers, and blokes who know how to turn a phrase just makes for one compelling experience. One of my favorite parts of this forum. Keep them coming everyone!

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A decent book could be published based on these reports. Fun stuff.

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There were loads when we were on SOH..shame we lost them

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Nice one, Siggi, keep it up. :good: Like the typewriter idea, that's handy.

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6th April 1917

Walmer

 

Dearest Papa.

 

Today's the day, we're off to France and should be leaving (in our scouts) in a couple of hours. Many thanks for the selection of scarves, they arrived safely yesterday. I particularly fancy the white one with red polka-dots, very spiffing!.

 

We're been flown hard by the boss and I now have around ten hours on the Se5, about six more than most chaps get before being sent over. He's also had us doing all sorts of tricks to make us sharp. It looks like I'm going to be given a flight of my own, apparently I'm a fast learner. The responsibility of other chaps' lives in my hands is a bit of a weight, but I'm a cautious fellow as you know.

 

One hears all sorts of tales from the older hands, but one still doesn't know exactly what to expect. Some of them make it all sound so easy. But I'll be finding out for myself soon enough.

 

Can't think of anything else to write. Head's in a bit of a whirl if I'm honest...this is really it. No more training, practice, the balloon's going up and I'm off to the sharp pointy end.

 

Give my love etc.

 

Your loving son.

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8th April 1917

Vert Galland

France

 

Dearest Papa.

 

Most exciting news! Today I flew my first combat sortie and I bagged a hun! Incredible!

 

I had thought my first letter to you all from the front would be rather dull. The transfer flight went without a hitch, mostly raining all the way. We arrived at VG in good time and spent the rest of the day and the next settling in. Yes, tents as I feared. The kites have somewhat better accomodation than do we.

 

This morning we took off at around 07.30hrs to patrol in defence of our aerodromes in the vicinity of Albert. I was given a flight, as promised, but with one or two more experienced pilots in attendance to keep out a weather eye. The weather itself was in fact quite good, a little overcast but good visibility. I took the flight up to 5000ft and headed off in the general direction of the front.

After about half an hour into the flight, having already seen various of our own kites flying about on their own tasks, I spotted a flight of kites coming in from 2 o'clock headed in our direction. Impossible to see who's they were at first, but then our archie firing at them gave them away. I immediately signalled the chaps to head into them and engage.

 

There followed the most most furious fight, our kites and theirs twisting and turning all over the sky. I shot into at least three of the buggers, and was hit myself, before I got a jolly good burst into one and down he bally well went! Crash! Bits all over the show!

Then I realised my engine was running a bit rough and suddenly the sound of rounds plastering my kite. I looked behind and there was Mr Hun, on my tail and thoroughly enjoying himself as he peppered me with gay abandon.

I immediately put the nose down and headed, quite fortuitously, in the direction of a friendly aerodrome. The gunners there took the hun under furious fire as I put my kite down on the grass and came to a halt about fifty feet from the outfit's parked kites.

 

I don't mind admitting I was shaking like a leaf as I climbed out of my poor Se5, and she's a write-off I'm afraid. Including mine we lost four of our kites to six of theirs, one of our chaps killed unfortunately.

 

So what was it like? A hell of a bloody introduction, I must say. And all rather surreal. To be actually shooting my guns at another kite, in the air, and knowing there's a person in it...a person who will die if my rounds shoot his kite out from under him, or hit him directly...it's a hell of a sobering thing. I rather feel my mind hasn't got itself all around it yet.

 

The CO, Mr Ball, is very pleased with me, not withstanding our losses. He says I did exactly the right thing. I don't think I had any choice if I'm honest. One is taught never to show one's tail to the buggers, unless one is out-numbered and sure of being able to get enough speed to get clear.

 

Well, I must sleep now, I'm quite exhausted and it's late. And I'm rather squiffy to tell the truth, we got a bit of one on this evening.

 

Love to all!

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:clapping:

 

Bloody Excellent. 'Nuff said.

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11th April 1917

Vert Galand

Flanders.

 

Dearest Papa.

 

Hope all is well on the home front.

 

Had a few quite exciting days here. We've flown various tasks and I've been forced down twice more, once by bad weather (wind damaged the kite) and once again by the fire of an enemy scout, within sight of our field. Nothing more than the engine was knocked about though.

 

Today was the jolly pipper though. We were given to attack a hun balloon, a few miles behind their lines. We got there at around 10,000ft but after circling for a good twenty minutes we couldn't see it so we left for home.

A couple of the chaps went astray and while looking for them I spooted a bunch of kites coming up towards us from the rear, about 2000ft lower down. Got the glasses on them and they looked like hun Albatrosses. Being outnumbered at that point eight to five I decided to make back over to our side of the lines. Our two strays turned up so I began circling, hoping to coax the huns to contine their stalk but they'd vanished. I thought them rather windy for not wanting to come over our side to fight.

 

So, continued towards home and weren't far from it when I noticed our archie bursting rear right, about 2000ft back. We turned to have a good look and I spotted first one, then a second, kite coming up to us. I thought they might be hun two-seaters, but the chaps say they don't tend to try and engage our scouts, certainly not outnumbered eight to two. I turned us into them and they were a pair of Albatrosses, DIIs I believe. Had to admire their pluck, taking us on like that. Sheer madness actually.

I waved the chaps in and we got into it with them. I got behind one and gave him a good walloping, but stalled out of my turn and lost him. Oscar, my wingman, told me he went down and crashed. I picked up the second shortly after and chased him off one of the chaps and put many bursts into him also, until he went down in a flat spin and crashed with a big bang of flames. Two kills.

 

I now have three claims pending and the CO thinks I'm a bit of a prodigy. What ho, eh?!

 

Have to go now, party in the mess and I'm buying.

 

Love to all.

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Have to go now, party in the mess and I'm buying.

 

Classic! Keep it coming, Siggi.

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21st April 1917

Vert Galand

Flanders

 

Dearest Papa.

 

Hope all is well at home! Sorry I haven't written for quite a few days but we've been terribly busy with this new offensive. The barrages as seen from the air are truly frightful, the front lines are a cauldron of fire and smoke. One feels for the poor Tommies in the trenches.

 

In the air things are often as hot, in their own way, and the flight from which I've just returned was a perfect example. I shall now tell you all about it, so hang on to your chair!

 

It started off in the usual way, take off and climb to a decent height. I led my flight of six (that includes me) towards the lines and came to see our archie having a go at something. I couldn't see it but ordered my chaps to attack, hoping they could see what I couldn't. It does no good to wait lest I drag my chaps into danger while tarrying.

Sure enough they'd spotted the hun and went tearing after them. I followed and saw one hun, who I immediately went after and gave him a good squirt. We twisted and turned for a bit, at around 6000ft, until I must have hit something important (the pilot or his wires) because he went down vertically and smashed into the ground.

 

I had a look around after that as I climbed back up a few hundred feet and saw two of the chaps giving another hun a jolly good thrashing. These were Albatrosses by the way, black and white horizontally striped tails, quite pretty little buggers.

 

After a while I had two of the chaps back with me and we circled for a while, trying to collect the others, before making off down the lines, looking for more action.

Sure enough, more archie, and damned if we didn't practically fly into four hun 2-seaters! Quite a shock as they opened up on us. I waved the chaps in and then I kind of went mad, seeing red as it were, and latched into the tail of one of them and fired until my Lewis ran dry and the vickers jammed. Not clever! The hun looked like he was going slowly down after that but I never saw what happened to him in the end. I pulled clear, fed the Lewis and tried to clear the Vickers. Found the old kite had taken a bit of a beating from the 2-seater, she wasn't flying too straight any longer.

 

We set off again, and I was thinking of putting down at the nearest field. Only Oscar, my wingman, was with me at this point. The others were still going after the 2-seaters. Looking around one could see kites all over the shop; three over there, two there, another two up there, some fighting, others seeming to be spectating almost. I'd never seen the sky so busy.

Then there was archie close by again and a few seconds later an Albatross went whizzing by from in front, all-black tail on this one. I turned after him, having no choice really. It was that or dive for the deck. We got into it and went around and around, me doing the best I could to force my damaged kite to behave. Then the hun went down through a thick cloud and I followed. That was nearly the last of me! A terrific wind took hold of the kite and literally threw it towards the ground in a frightful spin. I thought something was sure to break, the groaning and creaking was so bad. But I came out the bottom in one piece, got the kite in hand, and spotted my hun. The dance was on again. I got him eventually, but it was a close thing. I'm not sure if I wounded or killed him, because he went down in a very long shallow dive before ploughing into a small woods. I would have finished him off immediatey, but I'd run the Lewis dry and jammed the Vickers again. Oops!

 

At this point I was sweating like a bally pig and feeling quite exhausted. Picked up Oscar again and made for home. We got there to find two Albatrosses in our way, about a mile from the field. Unbelievable! I ducked under them and made it back ok while Oscar chased them off.

 

All sounds very exciting, doesn't it? I dragged myself out of the kite and couldn't stand up. I vomited like a dog on all fours. Typing this three hours later and I can barely hit the keys straight my hands are trembling so badly. But what ho, eh Papa? One has to do one's duty, and better like this than in a vile trench covered in s**t.

 

Well, that's me done with typing for now. Still waiting for any letters you might have written to catch up with me here. Oscar and I are off to the local town tonight, to tie one on. Please give my love to all.

 

Peter.

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Another exciting tale! Thanks for sharing Siggi.

 

Cheers!

 

Lou

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Love those letters home, Siggi. Thanks

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:good:

 

Busy day at the office that, glad young Peter survived it.

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Vert Galand

Flanders

 

Dearest Papa.

 

Long-range patrol over enemy lines, an hour in and just crossing the lines over the coast, I spot a lone a/c in the distance at 4 o'clock. At first I thought it was a hun 2-seater, legging it into the clouds, but after getting the binoculars onto it I spot a bunch more...hang on...heading our way (seven of us)...ALBATROSSES!!!

 

I wave the attack and turn into them, kite a bit sluggish. Then it was twisting and turning, snap-shots here and there, doing my best to keep above them. The buggers were everywhere. Then I spotted one of my chaps getting it, so went to help him. Scared the hun off his tail, then started taking hits myself. Twisting and turning again, more hits, couldn't shake him. Nose down hard and dive, with the bugger following me all the way. I looked back, there's my wingie, god bless him, trying to shoot him off me. By now I'm taking hit after hit, all the way down, dodging some of it but no longer sure how well my plane is handling. I find out as I try to pull out at about 500ft and the kite is a bag of spuds, engine running rough, misfiring, buggered. Going in sideways and she won't respond. She seems to level better if I push the stick forward, so I do that until the ground is right there and I pull back hard. The nose comes up a bit but the kite goes in hard on the right wings and SMASH! I see flames, fire, sky, whirling around, the world gone mad. Then I'm lying on my back looking at the sky. Can't hear a thing, but the ground is soft. I'm wet. But alive, or at least I think so. Laying in a bog of some sort, covered in mud.

 

Well, I sat up and breathed. Found the old gaspers and lit one up. The kite is about thirty feet away or so, blazing from end to end, bits of it strewn everywhere. Did I just come out of that? In one piece? I feel no pain, everything works, not even winded. How is that possible? High above I see kites still chasing each other around, tracer-trails lacing the sky between them. It all looks very wonderful and I realise I must be in some kind of shock. Then I start laughing.

 

I had another five kills confirmed Papa and I've been awarded a gong. I'm an ace apparently, which is jolly fun. But I think I've had enough of this caper now. Not that it'll cut much mustard anywhere. I shall see about getting some leave though.

 

Love to all.

 

Peter.

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Great reports, Siggi - nice to read, that all is pretty much the same emotions on you crumpets.

Perhaps, after the war is over, it might be nice to meet, over a pint...

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